The GodDaughter
by PetiteMouse
Summary: Chibs' GodDaughter, Regan McElvy, daughter of former Belfast VP Roban McElvy, has come to Charmingtown after being presumed dead for 5 years. Will her murderous, IRA past come back to haunt her, or will she finally live out her life in peace? A revamp of my original The GodDaughter written between Oct 2012 and Oct 2013.
1. Shattered Memories

…**7 YEARS AGO…**

**Belfast, Ireland 4:23 PM**

_It was raining, usual for Belfast, the mist soaking the eighteen-year-old Regan as she ran home from school. Her normal routine was to run home, shower, do some homework, and then cover some hours in Maureen's shop with Trinny. It was a bad idea to have the two teenagers together since all they did was giggle and gossip about everything, but Maureen trusted them for some reason. Short leg ran up the steps into her parents house, running right into Sean's back since he was just inside of the door. Luckily enough Sean caught her before she stumbled back out into the rain, hands locking on her arms until she was steady._

_Almost every member of the Belfast charter of the Sons of Anarchy were in the house; sitting in chairs, on the kitchen table, counters, the sofa, wherever there was space. It wasn't terribly out of the ordinary for some of the men to be at the McElvy household, but not all of them at once. The sound of her mother sobbing on the couch caught her attention before she could speak, Regan turning toward her mom, Padraic catching her as she did so._

"_Your Da crashed, Re…" he whispered into her ear softly, the tone in his voice letting her know her Dad wasn't coming home._

_Regan began to sob, fingers clutching her boyfriends new cut and her tears soaked into the soft leather while her sobs shook her petite frame. Her dad, the man who taught her everything about motorcycles and fighting, was gone. And he was never coming back._

* * *

"_Bastaird salach!" she screamed at McGee, blue eyes filled with fury. "Tell me why me Da had 4 bullet holes in his dead body!"_

_McGee backed away a few steps just as Sean grabbed hold of the raging brunette. "Re! I dunno what ya mean!" he shook his head._

_Regan struggled in Sean's hold until he let her go, stopping short of punching Keith. "You're lying! Da wasn't found on a curve where he could have slipped off the road! He was found on the side of a straight away with four God damned bullets in him!"_

"_We didn't know, Regan," Sean spoke up, a deep frown ruining his handsome features. "We were told the same things you were. How did you find all of that out."_

_"I'm eighteen-years-old. I can go to the damned Coronah's office and get the information. Maybe you should do the same fucking thing," Regan growled, giving McGee a hard glare as she left the clubhouse._

* * *

…**5 YEARS AGO…**

**Belfast, Ireland 6:04 PM**

"_Ma!" Regan called while tossing her keys in the bowl by the door followed by her wet boots in the doorway. It had been a long day, between opening Ashby's and bar-tending for the boys in the afternoon, she was ready for a shower and her bed. "Ma!" She hollered again, irritated that her mother wasn't answering her. As she walked through the living room towards her bedroom, she noticed the bathroom door was shut, her mother must have been in there showering, but Regan needed to ask her a question._

"_Ma! Seriously!" Regan banged on the door a few times and when there was no answer, she went to open it. Locked. "What the fuck are you DOIN'!?" she yelled, and when there was no yelling from her mother about her mouth, Regan knew something was wrong. She jiggled the door handle a bit before stepping back and kicking the door as hard as she could. It took quite a few hard kicks before the door broke open and Regan just stared. Red stained the floor, the side of the tub, the water…her blue eyes stopped at the sight of her mother's arm on the side of the tub, fingers barely open with a deep gauge in her wrist. Aislinn's beautiful, curly red hair was soaked with the bloody water, her grey eyes shut tight as if she had been struggling when she died. Regan rest her hands over her mouth, tears flowing down her cheeks and into her sweater._

"_Oh Ma…" she shook her head, finally letting out a scream that could chill someone to their bones. Regan managed to get her phone from her pocket and immediately called Padraic, only managing a 'Ma's dead' before hanging up. In a matter of minutes, Paddy, McGee, Liam, Sean, and a few other boys stormed into the house. Regan was sitting on the toilet just staring at her mother as she continued to cry. Keith moved into the bathroom, crouching down in front of Regan and softly cupping her cheek. He winced at the dead look to those pretty blue eyes, the corruption of the young woman going to haunt them both for years._

"_Come on, Re. Let's get you to Mau's…" he whispered._

_Regan didn't fight, didn't argue, she just went away and left her mother there._

* * *

…**6 MONTHS LATER…**

_Regan shook her head, fighting with Maureen Ashby with every ounce of her being. "I'm not leavin', Maureen!"_

"_Regan! If you don't leave, Jimmy will kill you!" She pleaded back at the thick-headed twenty-year-old. This argument had been going on for a good hour at this point as Regan took all of the clothing Maureen was piling into the suitcase back out again. _

"_Re…you have to leave…" Paddy agreed with Maureen gently._

_Angry tears stung Regan's eyes, all sorts of insults flowing from her mouth now until Maureen's hand connected with her right cheek._

"_Regan Aisling McElvy. You are to go get your things and leave with Paddy."_

_And Maureen's words were law._

* * *

**Notes:** Okay, I'm FINALLY getting around to the re-write I am SO SO SO sorry. Thanks everyone for reading!


	2. New Home, Old Friends

**Belfast, Ireland - 12:45AM**

_It was cold, surprisingly not raining, but it was cold as hell. Regan's footsteps were nearly silent as she creeped along the wall that surrounded the Dungloe clubhouse towards the driveway. Maybe approaching the clubhouse from the driveway was a dumb idea, would give her away easier, but that was sort of her plan. There was no way in hell she would ever want to carry out this mission from the IRA yet here she was, acting like she was going to. Standing up straight, she glanced around at the bikes surrounding her to see who all was here and dammit, it seemed like everyone was here. Voices made her jump towards the side of the clubhouse to hide, eyes watching the men climb onto their bikes. One by one they left until there was one bike remaining, hopefully it was her 'targets'. _

_Now. Or never. With a deep breath, hand on her Glock, Regan crept along the building to the door, walking in as if she owned the place all while keeping a hand by her weapon. Coming around the corner towards the Chapel, everything fell into line like muscle memory. There had been so many times when she was younger that she had gone on trips to this clubhouse as a kid with her dad. Her Uncle was the President, of course she knew this clubhouse well. And he sat in his chair just as she had suspected, as if he were waiting for her to come take care of him._

"_Regan? Ah child, I haven't seen you in forever," he smiled but the solemn look on her face made him stop. "What's wrong, ma gra?" _

"_I'm sorreh, Uncle...I...I have to..." she managed, pulling the Glock from her holster but keeping it pointed at the ground as she spoke to him. "I have no choice." She shook her head and tears flowed already._

_He looked from her face to her hand then back again, taking a deep breath. "Re...what're you inta?"_

_Regan shook her head, "I'm sorry." She lifted her hands and pointed the weapon._

* * *

With a gasp, Regan snapped awake and glanced around. The light filling the room was a soft grey since the sun was just barely starting to rise in the East and her skin was sticky with sweat. Three days in Charming so far and every night she had had a nightmare. Maybe it was some kind of omen that she should high tail it out of the town or maybe she was just creating her own nightmares through stressing out over nothing. Sighing at the sight of the clock reading just about 6:30, she slowly dragged herself out of her bed and into the bathroom to shower. She was awake, might as well make herself presentable to head down to Teller-Morrow.

Charming, The Redwood Originals, The First SoA Charter in existence. Quite possibly the most intimidating group of individuals Regan could think of considering the men of Charming were always put through worse hazing than anyone else. It was the mother charter, they had to be tougher. Not to say they were outright disgusting people with no hearts, it was a simple known fact within the Sons of Anarchy community that the men of Redwood were a little more...hardened. And maybe a little more weird.

Whatever the case was, Regan had to go down there and introduce herself because she needed to feel at home. Needed to feel the protection of being around the club members. She needed to feel like she was where she belonged again, and there was only one way to do that. Looking at herself in the mirror, the dark brunette woman finished off her makeup and pulled her hair into a ponytail before deeming herself presentable enough. Jeans were acceptable, right?

* * *

Nearly an hour later she rolled into the parking lot of TM in her dark green Jeep, parking in the corner by the gate to stay out of the way. Her eyes rest on the bikes as she passed each one, admiring the artwork and cleanliness of each one. Man, these men really took care of their babies. Approaching the office she caught sight of a dark haired woman with blonde highlights sitting at an older computer, glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she read something on the screen.

Regan cleared her throat softly, hiding her nerves rather well as the woman turned her gaze to look at Regan.

"Can I help you?" Her tone wasn't dripping with sweetness, there was actually some kind of expectation in there it seemed. As if Regan was gonna ask for a job or something.

"Hi, uhm, my name's Regan. McElvy. Me Da was a Son in Belfast and...and I figured it was safest to come here and introduce myself..." Regan bit the inside of her lip as she realized how stupid she sounded at that moment. The woman stood up, towering over Regan's petite five foot tall frame, looking her over before nodding.

"McElvy...the name sounds familiar," she mused softly.

Regan smiled a bit and nodded, feeling a bit relaxed at that. "Yeah, he was the Vice Pres for awhile, before he passed."

The woman nodded once more, taking Regan in before setting her glasses down on the desk behind her. "I'm Gemma, the President's Old Lady."

Gemma Teller-Morrow. So this was the old crow Maureen told her about. Well, that was rather rude, she wasn't exactly a crow or anything, but the stories she had heard about Gemma weren't exactly nice. At least now, she'd have her own chance to make an opinion on Gemma instead of only getting Belfast's version. Gemma was, after all, Queen B of all of SoA, she dated the President of the Home Charter, the damned President of all of SoA.

"It's nice ta meet you, Gemma," Regan smiled now, nodding and shifting her weight some.

"Come on, I'll take you inside to meet the boys. Clay will remember your old man," Gemma nodded, walking out of the office into the lot.

Re sighed, thanking God quickly before turning to follow Gemma towards the clubhouse. Now she actually glanced around the lot, noticing a few men working in the garage, the lot behind the garage as well as the tow truck in the corner. What threw her off a bit was the boxing ring sitting under the overhang in front of the clubhouse. Belfast didn't have a ring, they just had a circle of men. What a weird thing to do. Stepping into the clubhouse brought her cold air and a shiver, and Regan looked around quickly before the talking went quiet.

"Hey boys," Gemma said softly, stepping aside to let Regan walk all the way in. "This is-"

"Re?" The Scottish tilt made her snap her head around, moving to step in front of Gemma to find the familiar face.

"Uncle!" Regan smiled brightly, stepping forward as Chibs got up from his stool so fast it fell backwards. He wrapped her up in a tight hug, pressing kisses to her cheek and forehead as he practically squeezed the air from her lungs. Re took in a deep breath of him, catching the scent of booze, sweat, some kind of cologne and his kutte. Stepping back as Chibs let her go, she looked up at him while he cupped her cheeks to look at her.

"My God, Regan..." he shook his head before turning to the men and hugging Regan to his side. "Boys, this is me GodDaughter, Regan McElvy."

"As in Roban McElvy?" A nearly white haired men stepped up, his oddly strong jawline setting while he waited for an answer. Regan's eyes wandered down to the patches on his kutte, seeing 'President' and realizing she stood in the presence of Clay Morrow.

Bobbing her head in a nod, she smiled a bit, "Yeah, he's me Da."

Clay's eyebrows lifted in surprise before he nodded himself, looking at the men around them. Regan quickly looked them all over, checking for patches as she did. The Sgt. At Arms was a wild-eyed man, which was sort of usual if she thought about it since the job called for someone right on the edge of insanity. Beside him stood a shorter, latino with some stupid looking tattoos on his shaved head, beside him a heavy-set man with some crazy hair himself. The others she didn't really see since she was distracted by Clay talking.

"Roban McElvy was the Vice President of the Belfast Charter, joined up not too long after McGee started the charter," Clay explained.

"Was?" A tall blonde frowned as he questioned the statement, his patch reading 'V. Pres'.

"Yeah," Regan piped up with a sigh and a nod. "Was killed when I was eighteen, so about ten years ago." Chibs' arm tightened around her shoulders a moment since he had been the first person she called after finding out. Obviously he caught onto the fact that it still bothered her.

Chibs stepped forward now, letting go of Regan to grab two beers and nodded to the men. "Now, if ya don't mind, I'm gonna go catch up with me GodDaughter if that's a'right?"

Smiling at Chibs' nonchalant way of speaking, she followed along after giving a little wave back out into the warmth of the day. The pair sat down at one of the picnic tables with their beers where they'd sort of have some privacy, or at least be left alone.

"Where the hell you been, Regan? I thought ye were dead!" Chibs shook his head, perching his sunglasses on the top of his head and took a long pull from his beer.

After the shit went down with Jimmy, Regan made it out of Ireland thanks to Maureen and Padraic, along with the help of a high up IRA member. Everyone just assumed she had passed or had been killed on a mission. Looking to her Uncle before back to her beer, she played with the bottle a bit as she spoke.

"Shet went down in Ireland five years ago. Ma killed herself, I was pulling into the IRA, after I defied Jimmy and didn't complete a task I was given, I was gonna be killed so Maureen and Padraic got me outta the country," she kept her voice low and looked to Chibs once more.

The look on his face was all mixed emotions. She could read anger and confusion for sure, but maybe a touch of sadness was there as well. "IRA? Regan Aisling-"

"Don't chastise me, Uncle Fil," she sighed, knowing that was exactly what was coming form him. "Ye gotta understand. I was not given a choice in the matter, especially with Ma dying. It was join or disappear unwillingly so I joined. And when Jimmy made me his personal bitch toy I got angry and, well, that's why I disappeared. I made my way over here slowly, making sure to lose any trails I may have."

Chibs studied his GodDaughter as she spoke about leaving all while putting puzzle pieces together in his head. There were a lot of things that Regan was leaving out of the discussion but those were all stories for another day. This was the first time they had seen one another since Chibs was forced to leave Ireland and Regan was not about to ruin that.

"Well," he started, sitting up some with a nod. He took a moment to seemingly put his thoughts together before reaching out to take his GodDaughters hand. "I'm glad yer alright, Re. Missed ya something terrible. Ya got a place to stay?"

Regan smiled and nodded, allowing Chibs to hold her hand in both of his for the moment. "I do, yeah. All moved in and settled already. I'm living on Rose Lane by Eighth Street in a rather nice little house if I do say so myself," she laughed at herself, having fallen in love with her comfortable little home.

Chibs bobbed his head in a light nod, "You're pretty close to all of us. I'm a bit of a ways down, but Juice lives right around there, and Jax too. You will never be far from a Son, and you're always welcome here, ya know that."

She nodded and looked down as his fingers traced the tan line of where her ring used to sit. At the frown that crossed his face, she reached into her pocket and pulled the antique ring from her pocket.

"Look familiar, Uncle? I took it off when I got here to avoid questions but..."

Chibs reached out and took the ring, slowly passing it over in his fingers with a genuinely soft smile on his lips. "Been some time since I seen this...I gave it to..." And the realization hit as his head snapped up to look at her. "Paddyboy?"

"Yeah," she nodded and sighed. "Gave it to me before I left but...at this point, he's probably moved on. Got a family of his own and all. I just kept it for the memories, and it's yer Grandmothahs ring so it's precious not just to Paddy, but to me too."

The smile faltered a bit on her lips as she talked about Padraic Telford, Chibs' nephew and her first love. They had had so many plans for their future before all of the shit happened. Marriage, kids, vacations, you name it they had it planned out. Chibs had given Padraic the ring when they were younger, somewhere around sixteen while Regan had been away in the Detention Center for being a misbehaving child. Apparently she meant something to Padraic since he had given it to her before she left. Re thought he would keep it for when he moved onto someone else, but now she could keep it close. It surprised her when Chibs slipped the ring back onto her finger, sliding his thumb over it slowly before looking to her.

"I'm glad you're here, Regan."

"Me too, Uncle. And I'm glad you're here," she giggled, turning her hand to take hold of his and sighed. Thank God she had found her Uncle.

What a good start to being in Charming.

* * *

**Notes:** Thank you guys for reading! This is going to take place being a bit AU all while sticking close to the plot line and rules. I'm not sure as to when this is going to take place but I'm going to guess right around Season 3 before all of the crap goes down with the Irish.


	3. Pictures Worth A Thousand Words

_Rumbling bikes brought Regan out of the clubhouse to meet her Dad, and Padraic, at the door. The boys had been gone for near a week and a half heading out to a charter far off on the coast for a bike show of sorts. At least that's what Regan was told but deep down she knew that wasn't the truth. There was some kind of run they needed to do but she wasn't privy to that information, especially not at fifteen. Immediately she spotted her dad climbing off of his bike, rolling his head to crack his stiff neck followed by a few knuckle cracks to loosen up the tightness from the ride. He was all worries and frustration until his eyes rest on his petite daughter, then he was all smiles._

"_Mini!" he called, opening his arms for his daughter as she ran over. Roban easily lifted the tiny girl into his arms in a tight hug, laughing at her tiny squeal. "Aye, I've got a present fer ya!" _

_When he set his daughter down, Regan expected him to hand her something small, like a keychain or a shot glass. But instead, he pulled her over to the flatbed trailer one of the Prospects had rolled in with Padraic. On it was a pretty rusted bike desperately in need of a good rebuild but as Regan climbed up to get a closer look, she realized just what she was looking at. Eyes widened a little bit before she turned to her bear of a father._

"_A pan'ead?! Really?!" her smile was bright, head shaking. "We gonna rebuild it, Da?! Jus' you an me?!"_

_Roban laughed a bit, "I'm glad ya like it, Mini. And yes, just you and me. You can choose the graphics that go on it and all once we get it all built."_

Fingers slipped across the gauged and scratched gas tank, down to the seat to the straight pipe exhaust. The once beautiful bike now sat scratched and damaged, nearly destroyed from the accident. Regan could recall every single thing they had done to the motorcycle to get it back into shape and damn, her dad had been so proud when she turned over. All chrome and fresh powder coat gleaming in the little sunlight in Belfast, the Panhead had been Roban's pride and joy, second to Regan of course.

Sadly, it was not another six months before Regan was put away in the Juvenile Detention Center thanks to a small habit of fighting with knives. Against other people. So the typical system idea was to put her away for a little while and set her straight, which it sort of did, but Regan just went underground with her fighting. Of course she dropped the use of knives, but she still fought quite a bit. And not long after that, her father passed away on this very bike.

Sighing and stepping back, she looked up when two bikes rolled into her driveway just outside the open garage door. Chibs climbed off of his motorcycle while setting his helmet down, Juice beside him doing the same. Re smiled while walking out to meet them, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight.

"'ey, thanks for comin' over," Regan hugged her Uncle and then Juice, a little awkwardly, motioning for them to follow her back into the garage. Chibs let out a whistle when he saw the destroyed motorcycle, stepping up to the lift to inspect it closer.

"Aye, she's pre'y damaged, Regan. Most o' these parts are gonna have to be ordered, no way we can get originals," Chibs spoke softly while looking to his Goddaughter.

Juice nodded, reaching out to check the shocks on the back wheel. "Gonna be a lot of work just gettin this thing apart. Doesn't seem rusted but, whatever crash it was in it took some serious damage."

Regan sighed, rubbing her chin and resting her hands on her hips as she thought a moment. "This was me Da's Panhead, the one we rebuilt together. I needa fix it, I just have to-"

"This? This is the Panhead you were talking about?" Juice cut her off, eyebrows lifting in what seemed like surprise. When Re just nodded in response he crossed his arms over his broad chest and fell into his thoughts.

Chibs looked to Regan then to the bike, "We can do it, Mini. We can fix this motorcycle, fer ya Dad."

Regan's smile was soft and she nodded, giving her Uncle an excited hug. "Thank you, Uncle, thank you. I can do the work, just need some help. Been awhile since I did anything mechanic wise on anything, bike or car."

"I can bring the flatbed over so we can take it to the shop, leave it in the bay we always use for the motorcycles since it won't be in the way there," Juice nodded, watching Chibs until the man nodded his approval.

"Yeah, we gotta run to the clubhouse anyway for a bit. I'll send Juicey back with the flatbed, a'right? Gemma's gonna want your help, Mini, for the par'y tonight."

"Already up my ass about bartendin' for the night, told her yes," she giggled. "Finally get to experience a Charmin' party. Only been two months."

Regan had managed to get herself changed into a low-rise pair of jeans and a cute charcoal grey shirt that accented her body well. With her wavy dark hair let loose at her shoulders, she looked a lot different than these boys were used to seeing her. Hell, most days she showed up at the clubhouse in scrubby clothing and had grease all over her since she was constantly helping out either there or in the office. After all, this was a big party and she had to look nice. All the way down to the heels on her feet, Regan was certainly not in any way looking scrubby tonight.

The knock at her door caught her attention and she remembered Juice was coming to pick her, and the Panhead, up to go to TM.

"Come in!" She called down the hallway, waiting until she heard the click of the door closing again. "Hey! I'll be right down!"

"Alright - mind if I grab a beer?"

"Not at all," Regan shook her head, making a face since Juice should know better than to ask that question. Readjusting her position on the counter in her bathroom, Regan set to finishing up her light makeup. At least she was almost ready and not going to make him wait too long, unlike what he was probably thinking. Sliding off of the counter she grabbed her makeup bag and made her way out into the TV room. Juice stood with his hands tucked into his kutte looking at all of the pictures on the wall she had hung up. Most were of Ireland, of her mom and dad, a few other pictures of Ireland itself.

"Hey," she said gently as she approached. When Juice turned, his mouth opened as if to say something but he stopped short, mumbling his 'hey' as he looked her over. "Close ya mouth, Juiceyboy." Regan giggled, glad he looked back to the pictures.

"Who's this?" Her eyes followed his arm to a picture of a tall, dark haired man holding a petite girl in a lavender dress in one arm and an equally small young boy in the other. All three were laughing at something beyond the camera, the little boy pointing in the direction of whatever they were laughing at.

"Tha's Chibs back before he was known as Chibs. Pre-Glasgow Smile. That's me in the dress and his nephew Padraic," Regan stepped closer to Juice to look closer at the photo. It was her favorite photograph of her Uncle that she had managed to find in the hundreds her parents had. "Gosh I was all of three there, maybe four. I think we were lauhging at me Da and McGee brashin one another."

The men were always bashing on one another in Belfast before the hard times hit, before Roban died. It was so normal for there to be so much laughter going on in the clubhouse in those days, and Regan missed that much laughter. Missed hearing her Dad's deep, belly laugh and McGee's odd cackle. Even Liam's odd laugh was one she missed. Reaching up to point at another set of photos, Regan smiled.

"That's me Da, Roban, with Chibs when Chibs first joined up. Da was his sponsor, hard to believe he was so young once, right? And this," she pointed to one closer to their eye level. "This was when Uncle Fil and Aunt Fiona were married, their wedding day. Dunno if he knows I have it, actually."

Re turned to look up at Juice and he looked down to her, pausing a moment. This was definitely one of those Hollywood moments where those first little sparks of chemistry hit each person and there was that long, sexy pause. Although, the pause wasn't very long because Regan giggled and turned away nervously. Juice shifted in response to her little giggle, sighing.

"Let's get your motorcycle on the flatbed before Gemma comes over here and drags me by my balls back to the clubhouse," he grumbled, sending Regan into a fit of laughter. At least getting the motorcycle onto the flatbed wouldn't be hard since it already sat on a lift that had wheels on it.

"So...Chibs called you Mini. That a nickname?" Juice asked a rather obvious, and somewhat dumb, question that made Regan smirk.

Glancing at him with that smirk on her lips, she nodded. "Yeah it is. I'm the spittin' image of me Da, so he started to call me Mini when I was about six or seven. The nickname just stuck and everyone started to call me Mini. Uncle Fil doesn't always call me it, he used to call me **A Thaisce **which means 'My Treasure' in Gaelic. And then he shortened it to just Thaisce and eventually he just started calling me Re and Mini."

A little smile perked Juice's lips as he looked over at her quickly, nodding. "I like it, calling you Mini. The nickname firs you, and that's cute."

Re giggled softly, shaking her head and attempting to hide the tiny blush that had brushed her cheeks. Regan McElvy didn't blush, ever. Not even when she's called cute.


	4. Party Hardy

To say a Charming party was borderline out of control at some points was a little bit of an understatement. Belfast was never this crazy and it was a bunch of drunken Irishman hanging around one another. Between the large amount of bikers in one space, sweetbutts, croweaters, the food getting passed around, the booze everywhere, the girls stripping, and then there was the fighting going on in the boxing ring. Regan had gotten sucked into watching some of the fighting for a little bit, studying just how these hardened men moved so quickly. It was rather...sexy to see them fight one another but only some of them.

After awhile, though, the fighting got boring so she sort of just wandered around until she ran into Chibs quite literally. Squeaking as she stumbled, Regan looked up and laughed at Chibs when he threw his hands in the air, successfully spilling some of his beer.

"Mini!" he practically yelled at her before grabbing hold of his Goddaughter. Turning them both to the men sitting around the table in front of the pair, Regan looked them over slowly. At least two of them had been in the ring while Regan was watching and she remembered the one, he reminded her of someone who could kill you in the blink of an eye. And he'd enjoy it.

"These boys are from the Tacoma charter, two states North of us. This is Lorca, Donut, Happy, Bowie, and the President of the charter, Lee. Kozik is around here somewhere, he's the other member who came down. Boys, this me Goddaughter, Regan."

Regan waved lightly, looking over at the Lee as the man spoke up.

"Where ya from, Regan?" he quirked his head a bit, taking a long pull from his beer and she caught him looking her over.

Lifting an eyebrow a bit, she crossed her arms over her chest before answering his question. "Belfast, me Da was the VP over there when I was younger."

Lee's eyebrow lifted, "VP, huh? Hmph."

Regan's eyebrow lifted as well, popping a hip and getting ready to be a bit of a smartass bitch before she heard someone call for Chibs. Her Uncle let her go as he walked away and before she could think of what to do, she heard a raspy voice from the table.

"You got some ink, let's see," Happy nodded at the bit of skin showing at the bottom of her shirt.

"Hap's a tattoo artist...obviously," Lorca waved his hand at Happy's tattoos that Regan had already been checking out for herself. At least the ones she could see and remember from when he was in the ring boxing.

Stepping closer to Happy so he could actually look at the tattoos closely, Regan pulled her shirt up so it just about touched the bottom of her bra to show off the tattoos on her body. On her left side she had a set of crossed tire tracks, a gun holster hanging from the crossed section with bits of red to symbolize blood. A small crow 'sat' on the rib below her left breast nearest to her heart for Padraic. On her back was a reaper, much like the Sons reaper, but hers was turned a little to the right with a chain through it's mouth, bullet holes in it's skull and chest and damaged wrists. The reaper represented a lot of things for her, from her struggles of loving the club to her fathers death and mothers suicide. And finally, on her right side, she had a set of butterfly knives with 'SOA' carved into the wooden handles, of course for her Uncle. One of the boys whistled as they all leaned forward to check out the extensive artwork, a hand touching her skin made her look. Happy had reached out to trace the tracks on her side, inspecting the work.

"This is really good work," he nodded, sitting back so she dropped her shirt back down. "Get it in Belfast?"

Re nodded, swiping a beer from a sweetbutt that passed by with a tray, resting an arm across her chest as she took a pull from her beer.

"Yeah, me cousins a tattoo artist in Ireland, down by my hometown of Kilkenny. Did everythin' I've got on me, even the piercings," she nodded since they had seen her belly button ring obviously. But there were a few more piercings she had that weren't viewable with clothes on and damn, the looks she got made her smirk. They were obviously imagining just what and where she had piercings hidden beneath her clothing.

When Happy sat back completely after seemingly satisfied with what he saw on her skin, Regan glanced around the party. It was getting rather late at this point, somewhere near 2 or 3 in the morning, and she was getting tired. The amount of alcohol she had consumed alone while bartending had been enough to knock her out had she taken it all in at once. There were a few times she had done shots with some of the guys and girls so at this point, she was a little buzzed.

"I'm stealin a dorm room before someone else does, enjoy yer girls," Regan winked at the guys sitting at the table, glad they found her comment a little funny. Those sweetbutts who didn't have a guy for the night were going to be looking for one and Re was not in the mood for the belligerent drunks that were coming out of the crowds. Snagging her backpack from under the bar, she made her way to the back towards the dorm rooms and managed to find one that wasn't taken. At least it didn't smell too bad, just that stale cigarette smell that tended to cling to a room. Dropping her backpack on the chair at the desk, she sat down on the bed with a deep breath. Being too drunk to go home meant she got to stay here, attempt to sleep while the loud sounds of rough drunken sex were going on around her. Shaking her head as she heard a bang, Regan settled in on the bed with a long yawn to attempt to go to sleep.

A bang on her door snapped her awake from her delightful slumber, head lifting from the pillow to glance at the closed door. It wasn't locked, so whoever was out there was sober enough to realize they had manners. Deciding to ignore the door with a little grown, she turned away from the door even as she heard it creak open. Maybe they'd get the idea to go away since she was sleeping, well, at least looked like she was sleeping.

"Re? You awake?" the voice was thick, words a little slurred but she wasn't sure if it was alcohol or sleep, or lack there of. Sighing after thinking for a moment, she leaned back to look at who was but it was pretty dark in the room. Luckily the light just caught the mohawk framed by tattoos as Juice shifted a bit.

"Now I am," she grumbled sleepily, yawning and rolling over. "What's wrong?"

Juice shifted again, only this time he shut the door as he stepped into the room. "Was just lookin for ya..."

Re watched him for a long moment before sighing, patting the bed. "Come on, come to bed. If tha's what your askin."

If she could see him now she knew he was smiling just by the little laugh that escaped him from her catching his idea. Shifting in the bed some to get more comfortable again, Regan settled into the little tendrils of sleep that were licking at her every so often to pull her back into dreamland. Just like that Juice was in bed, his warm chest pressing against her back and his arm snaking around her, holding her to him. There was something about being held by a man that made Regan sleep better, made her feel a bit more secure. Of course, sleeping next to someone she didn't really know should have alarmed her more than it was right now, but she was too damned tired to care.

* * *

**Notes:** Sorry this is a little crappy and rushed, I'm so tired at the moment but wanted to crank out a chapter. Thank you for reading and subbing and following!


	5. Tá grá agam duit

Banging. Something was banging rather loudly. Regan groaned and pressed her face into Juice's neck to attempt to hide from the noise and the sunlight poking through the window. When his arm tightened around her waist she was ready to fall back asleep but that damned banging wouldn't stop. Sighing, she finally got up from the bed, walking over to the door and yanking it open as a fist nearly collided with her face. Regan didn't flinch, just glared up at her Uncle as he stopped an inch short of connecting a fist to her nose.

"What?" she practically hissed, blue eyes holding a harsh glare appearance to them that made him hesitate a moment even when he spotted Juice dozing in the bed. Re snapped her fingers as he stared for a second too long, getting Chibs' attention once more and shaking her head. "What, Uncle Fil?"

"Come on, need ya help. Bobby needs ta go ge' checked an' Gemma was in a car accident last night. Bring Juicey...an' we'll talk latah," he lifted an eyebrow before walking away from her.

Sighing, Regan shut the door, smacked Juice's thigh as she passed on her way to the bathroom to get changed. He grumbled something inaudible that caused her to smirk, quickly getting herself cleaned up and changed into clean clothes. Exiting the bathroom she was greeted by a half-naked Juice, and by half-naked he was just in boxers. That was a view she was enjoying that he sadly covered up with jeans before he realized she was standing there. There was a touch of hangover-induced sleep on his face, his eyelids still a little heavy and she didn't doubt he had a headache.

"Ya remember coming in here last night?" she quirked her head, offering him his kutte.

Juice seemed to think about that for a moment before he shook his head, sliding his kutte onto his shoulders. "Not really, I remember talking to you, but that's it."

Regan merely cackled in response as she grabbed her sweatshirt and made her way out into the clubhouse. A few of the boys were sprinkled around drinking coffee, whiskey, whatever fit their palette that morning. Her eyes noticed a few faces she didn't recognize as well as others that had crossed her path during the party briefly but she hadn't taken the time to talk to. Jumping when she nearly ran into Half-Sac, she hadn't even gotten a chance to apologize before Chibs was hollering for her outside.

"Aye, Re, I need ya ta make some breakfast for the boys. We're gonna run Bobby to ge' checked, check on Gemma, then we'll be back, ya ken?"

Regan looked at him for a long moment, bobbing her head in a nod. "Yeah, I'll cook." As she turned she felt his hand grab her arm, turning to look up at him.

"And we'll talk when I get back, understood?"

"Wha' about?" Re frowned with a shake of her head. "Nothin to talk about, Uncle."

Before he could come back at her with some smartass comment, he turned his bike over and took off.

* * *

Regan sat nursing a beer in the cool late night before Chibs finally rolled back into the clubhouse. Guess it was time for whatever their little 'talk' was gonna be about. Lighting herself a cigarette as the Scot approached, Regan looked up at him with a sigh.

"Gemma alrigh'?"

Chibs nodded before sitting down across from her, leaning on the table and swiping her beer from her. For now, it was just the two of them at the clubhouse until the rest of the boys rode in. An awkward silence settled in between them for a few minutes, Regan anticipating whatever he had decided one was important to talk about. Just as she was going to say something Chibs looked up and started to talk.

"Listen, ya bein' here is great. I love ya being here and knowin tha' yer alive is the best news I've had in a long time. But...but wha' I saw this mornin' has me uneasy. An' wha' I saw last night." Chibs had concern written all over his face as he spoke, head shaking a bit every so often. What he was talking about, though, was beyond Regan's comprehension at that very moment.

Sitting up to lean on the table, cigarette settled into the ashtray, hands resting on her own arms as she leaned on them. Regan studied her Uncle for a long moment before everything dawned on her.

"Uncle! Oh goodness me, no! There's nothin going on wif me an' Juice, he just crashed in me room that's all. Bu' last night...wha' do ya mean?" She frowned deeply.

"Showin off ye body to tha Tacoma boys," Chibs waved his hand at her some with an aggravated sigh.

Regan's demeanor softened and she stated to laugh, laughter increasing as she thought about it some more. When Chibs' confused look caught her eye she laughed some more, eventually calming down.

"Oh, Uncle. I was showin' 'appy me tattoos. That's all," she shook her head. "I know wha' it looked like but, he was curious."

Chibs studied her for a long moment, shaking his head once more and sighing. He still didn't like what she had done.

"Aye, Uncle Fil. I'm no' the wee girl I was in t'e Eire. I'm grown up now, I'm no' gonna do nothin' stupid."

"That was stupid, Regan," he growled a bit. "An' yer still me Goddaughtah. I've gotta look after ye, promised yer Da that."

Re reached out to take his hand, squeezing it lightly with a sigh. "Uncle, ye will always protect me no matter what, you know that. Jus', relax. I'm no' gonna do nothin dumb and Juice is nothin. We're just friends."

Chibs watched her for a few more minutes before finally nodding and kissing the tops of her hands gently. "A'righ', Mini. I'm gonna trust ye on that. If anything does start between ya two-"

"You'll be the first ta know, promise," Re smiled and laughed a bit at the idea of her and Juice together. Shaking her head, she stood and pressed a kiss to Chibs' forehead. "I'm goin 'ome, Uncle. Tá grá agam duit."

Chibs smiled up at his Goddaughter. "Tá grá agam duit, Re."

* * *

**Notes:** Okay, after this chapter it's gonna pick up. I'm gonna go a bit AU while sticking close to the storyline, just with added dramatic events and such. There may be a bit of a delay with the holiday.

Tá grá agam duit = I love you


	6. You Can't Hide Shit

"RE!" The Scotsman was hollering around the clubhouse, making a ton of noise and annoying those who were in the clubhouse having a drink after that ride. The party the night before had been one hell of a rager and the men had been woken up early to ride back to Charming. Some were still rather hungover, nursing headaches, the like. Chibs certainly was not helping that. "RE-"

"Shu' up!" Regan hollered back, finally coming into the main room from the back, carrying her sweatshirt with a shake of her head. "I had to wee, Christ, Uncle." She sighed, ignoring the look Juice gave her and shoving his head a bit as she walked past. Of course Re knew he was hungover, his eyelids were heavy and he was downing a bottle of water rather quickly, and the more she could screw with him the better.

Chibs grabbed his GodDaughter's arm a little roughly and glanced around. Before Regan could say anything she could see the worried look on his face, prying at his fingers.

"Aye, Uncle. Stop squeezin so 'ard!" her voice got high and squeaky when his hand tightened on her, finally releasing once he realized just how hard he was squeezing. It seemed his head cleared enough to trip his feet into moving, leading Regan towards the back where she had just come from. "Uncle-" she sighed, stumbling when he shoved her a bit and shut the door. Turning to him now she crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips a bit and made it known his roughness was not appreciated. Her entire stance read 'annoyed', hip dropped, arms tight across her chest and eyebrow lifting some as she waited.

Chibs returned the look with a sigh, shaking his head. "Re, we've got a problem. Jimmy O' Phelan is here, in the States."

Regan's mouth dropped open, demeanor changing. "What?! No, no tha's not possible, Uncle!"

Chibs shook his head while looking at his Goddaughter, sighing. "'e is, now Ah dunno what all happened that brought ya here, Re, or all what made ya leave t'e Eire but...whatever it is, ya needa tell me. 'afore Jimmy finds ye."

Regan paced the room slowly, deep in thought as to what she could do at this point. She hadn't been entirely forthright with her Uncle about just what had happened that made her leave Ireland, that there was more than just defiance and punishment going on there. Sighing, she raked her fingers across her scalp and shook her head.

"No, Uncle. I can't tell ya. I just can't."

"Regan Aislinn." Chibs stepped over to her, grabbing her shoulders so she'd look at him. There was unrest in her eyes, a storm brewing amongst beautiful seas. Finally, he let go, knowing he wasn't going to get anything from his GodDaughter, her lips were sealed. Damned stubborn Irish woman.

"I wan' ye ta stay close, then. Escort home, lay low-"

"Stay ou'a sight?" Re knew the drill, she had grown uip in Belfast with an outlaw biker gang afterall.

"Exactly." He offered a weak smile with a hug, sighing into her black hair. "Go home, Re. Take one of the boys with ya, and don't come back unless ya go'a escort."

With that, opting to oblige instead of argue, Re grabbed her purse from behind the bar and made her way out of the clubhouse. Having Jimmy around Charming was not comforting in the least bit, making her uncomfortable in her own skin despite being in a rather safe and controlled environment at the moment. Stopping short when Tig rolled into the lot, Regan was glad he slowed down since she hadn't been paying attention to look up at her. Leaning closer to talk over his bike, she smiled when Tig agreed to take her home without any questions but the look on his face meant he'd want answers at her house. Great.

* * *

Re was barely at her front door before Tig was behing her, waiting to follow her into the house for answer. Impatient man wasn't he? Letting them into the cool house, fingers flipped the lock on the door as Tig walked into her kitchen to grab a beer. By the time she reached the kitchen from kicking her shoes off, Tig was at her table waiting for her to settle down across from him. Instead of instigating the conversation she decided to let the man figure his questions out.

"Who'd ya kill?"

Her eyebrow shot up and she looked at him, shaking her head. "Excuse me?"

"Who did you kill to piss off O' Phelan? I saw your Uncle freak out at the sight of the man, and he ran for you as soon as we got back." Tig's voice carried irritation with it, making her wince, sigh heavily, knowing she wasn't getting out of this one.

"Ex-communes. Killed me Da aftah they were voted out fer stealin' from the club. They were IRA membahs too, and when I killed them instead of who I was supposed to, I royally pissed in Jimmy's cornflakes."

Tig leaned forward onto his elbows, fingers knotting together while he thought about something. A pensive look managed to creep into his blue eyes before whatever was brewing in his mind came through.

"Jimmy...he find out you're here, you're alive? And the club finds out who you killed?" His brown knit into a harsh frown of concern since he knew the answer to his second question. The club found out she killed members, excommunicated or not, she was a dead woman. She shifted with a heavy sigh, wrapping a hand around the bottle of soda in front of her.

"No' much here in the states. He can try ta flex what li'le muscle he has with threats and shet but...only in Ireland can he do damage. Home turf, easier to toss the casualty to IRA feuds instead of straight up murdah."

"Told your Uncle?"

When Re shook her head she was sure he was gonna jump across the table at her. Fist slammed down into the table, nearly knocked both of their drinks over in his moment of frustration.

"Kid, you can't hide that kinda shit from your Uncle, from us! We got a deal with the Irish and with Chibs havin' a beef with O' Phelan as it is-"

"I know, I know-"

"No you don't-"

"Yeah I do!" She yelled back. "Tig, I lived i'. I lived in Belfast for twen'y years! Me Da was tha VP an' me Ma was an IRA cock suckah. I know tha danger of mixin Sons wif tha IRA. I lived it, watched i' tear me family an' me futah apart. But i' nearly broke mah poor Uncle's heart bein' told I was in tha IRA. Imagine how destroyed he'd be if he knew I...what I was."

Regan sat back a moment before standing up from the table, beginning to pace in the short space between the table and counter.

"Jimmy O' Phelan is no big sho' in tha IRA, don't ge' me wrong. He's known for being an extremist, an ass, a deviant...for breakin' tha rules of tha organization. Nothin' Jimmy does is in alignment with the rules in any sense. And his version of correction or fulfillin' the consequences o' one's decisions is pure violence. He is a sick bastahd. One I don't plan ta cross anytime soon."

She finally sotpped pacing, slowly turning to the Sergeant At Arms seated at her table, looking at her as if she were a complex puzzle that had just grown more complicated. In all honest that wasn't far off from the truth since Regan was rather complex to a frustrating level. Once one layer of her puzzle was scratched away, even more layer were revealed. Scraping layers was like pulling teeth out of an angry Grizzly Bear inside of a petite frame in a cage. She had a feeling Tig was the same way.

The silence was getting loud, Regan needed to break it before she burst. When she slid back into her seat, spreading fingers on the table to think, Tig's hand in her line of sight prevented her thoughts from running full circle. His hands were rough against hers, a callus on his thumb scapred her ring finger a bit just along the top of her knuckle. His eyes lifted from the discolored skin to the ring on her necklace that had fallen out of her sweater in her pacing.

"You were engaged," that was obvious. "My guess is when you pissed off Jimmy, you were planning a life with whoever he is...Am I right?"

Regan slowly bobbed her head in a nod, "Padraic Telford, Chibs' nephew. Chibs' sistah Cat lives in Scotland, growin' up Paddy split time workin at the clubhouse, school an' workin' on the ferry that ran to Cairnryan-" she laughed at Tig's confused look. "Cairnryan's in Sco'land, Paddy an' Aunt Cat lived outside of Cairnryan but I'm pre'y sure Cat moved ta Glasgow. We were always togethah though, evne when I went ta juvie for fightin' too much. Paddy was there t'rough everythin'. Me Da, Ma, everythin'. I was there for his patch in an' when Aun' Cat was sick for awhile. We were plannin' so much. Kids, vacations, a weddin'...then well...you figyah it out."

Tig nodded and finally let her go, a quiet minute passing between them now that the air wasn't so tense.

"Kid, you need to tell your Uncle, for the safety of not just the club, but you too. And Chibs. Yeah, we're dealin with a lotta shit, especially with Zoebelle and the Irish. But...don't keep secrets, not from your family." He stood, stepping around the table, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Come on, we got church and I'm sure we're gonna need your cookin to cheer us up."

Regan giggled at that, knowing the men had become spoiled to having homecooked food almost every night. "I've spoiled you lot." She stood, turning to hug Tig tightly, glad he allowed her to hug and even hugged her tight himself. "Thanks, Tig."

Tig stepped back from the hug, looking down at the petite woman made to look even smaller now that he stood with her.

"You're alright, kid. We'll protect you. Now come on, my stomach could use some of that chicken alfredo shit you make."

* * *

There had been some yelling when Regan got to the clubhouse following Tig. The pair just made their way inside. Finding her Uncle had been a challenge since the last place she thought to look was in the chapel, but there he sat, waiting.

"Uncle?" she asked from the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge her existence. Chibs turned just enough to glance at her, waving for Regan to step into the sacred chapel. There were a lot of thoughts going through his mind, it was written all over his face and posture like an open book. Now she felt bad but Tig was watching, she had to say something. Gently she slipped her fingers intot he back of his head, scratching a bit.

"You're jus' like Da," she giggled when he leaned into her hand. "Always loved his head scratched.

Chibs offered a smile that was more of a twitch of his lips, "Yeah, don' get it much anymore."

Re let tehm get quiet for a few moments, looking up when Clay walked in. "Hey, can we talk aftah Church when ya get a minute?" Chibs looked up as if he were gonna ask what about, but Clay called for Church from the doorway.

"You bet."

"Love ya, Uncle," she smiled, closing the door behind her.

Strolling outside brought her to Gemma and Tara. Eyes fell on Tara's red nose and she frowned, deciding it best not to ask who had socked her nose.

"Hey. How ya holdin' up?" Gemma nodded towards Regan while she took a seat. Sighing, the Irish woman lit herself a cigarette.

"Rough day. Seems like everyone is havin' one," she glanced between the Queen and the coming Princess with the Rudolph nose. Tara snorted a bit, Gemma nodding in agreement. At least she wasn't along in having tough moments today. When the door opening, the outpouring of grumpy men was rather expected since they had all gone into Church pissy. Jax walked over to Tara, Clay and the others filling in or going towards the garage. An arm resting around her shoulders made her duck out of instinct, smiling up at Juice. He leaned against the table and into her and she into him, her head finding his chest.

"Ok, Juice?" Re kept her voice low enough to keep their conversation between them.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You?"

"I think so. Go'a talk to me Uncle though."

They looked at one another and Re smiled, watching Juice open his mouth to say something but a loud bang stopped him. Juice had pulled Regan off of the table in an attempt to protect her and as soon as Re had her bearings, she was bolting towards where her Uncle had langed. Tig turned and caught hold of her to prevent her from getting too close, to prevent her from seeing just what was going on.

This could not happen again.

Regan McElvy was not going to lose another loved one.

* * *

**Notes:** Thank you for reading! Hope you guys are still enjoying this!


	7. Reunions Aren't Delightful

"Go to the clubhouse, get something to eat," Gemma urged, watching Regan pace. Since Chibs was admitted the woman hadn't stopped pacing the waiting room.

"Regan. He's not going to wake up anytime soon. Go get a shower, eat, check on the guys. Just go take a break," Tara continued to urge her.

All Regan wanted was to sit at her Uncle's side and wait. The women were right, though, she needed a break from the hospital. So, with a nod, Regan took her bag and went home. The shower was much needed, as was the lunch she had made up for herself before she made a few sandwiches for the guys that she figured would be at the clubhouse and left her home.

* * *

Her eyes fell on the van still smoldering in the lot, heels clicking softly on the asphalt. Just as she passed the mess, an Irish tilt caught her ear. Clay was talking to a young Irishman about shipment or something like that before the voice dawned on Regan just who it was.

"Eddie?" she breathed, gasping when he turned around to face her, her eyes dragging along the man she had once been friends with. Edmond frowned, realization washing over his face when she lifted her sunglasses to perch on the top of her head.

"Jesus Christ, Mini?!" He shook his head, stepping forward a bit until Clay snapped something.

"Great!" the Presidents voice was booming with annoyance. "A reunion, just what we fuckin' need."

Regan frowned at Clay, turning to Eddie quickly and scribbling something down on a piece of paper. "Here. Be there. 30 minutes. Don't. Tell. Anyone."

Edmond nodded, exchanging a few more words with Clay before the IRA dealer left. As Re turned back to Clay, he was going off about cleaning the crap up while Unser went to go move his guys.

"You! What was that?!" Clay pointed at Regan, getting up in her face a bit more than she approved.

One thing Regan didn't approve of or tolerate was people in her face. Stepping up to meet Clay, her jaw set tightly and even flexed a few times as she kept a hold on her anger.

"Eddie's a friend, Camy a cousin. Grew up-"

"Yeah, well now you're gettin into our business with that shit-"

"Ah ain't gettin' into_ no one's_ business except for me own! Now, if you'll _excuse_ me, I'd like to go check on me Uncle and possibly see an ol' friend."

"Who's related to _our_ business." Clay leaned forward and pointed at his chest.

Re's anger flared and she couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer.

"Ain't givin a _shite_ about ya business, Clay! That's yer club's business, I'm a club lady and that's it! I will NEVER get involved in club bullshet. Step down off ya migh'y powah trip and go handle ya business like the President you are. I ain't gonna do nothin' ta jeopardize you or anyone else in this club. Ya forget where Ah was raised."

A tense moment passed between them as Clay seemed to mull her words over. Stepping back, he barked off a few more orders before leaving. Regan eyed Juice before rushing over to her Jeep and rushing home.

* * *

Edmond was witing for her in hte shade of the tree in front of her home, back face the street so he wasn't easily seen. Nothing was said between them until they were in her living room having somewhat of a silent stand off. Edmond reached forward suddenly and just hugged her suddenly, tightly to his chest, crushing the breath from her lungs.

"Oh my God, Re. How are ya alive?! The hell ya been!?" his voice was deeper than she remembered but at the same time, sounded the same to him.

Regan looked up at the Hayes boy, studying his features with a sigh. Could she trust him? Could she believe Eddie would put friendship before business? Before Jimmy? Considering he had always kept their secrets before, there was no reason for her to think he wasn't trustworthy now.

"Eddie. Ya can't tell anyone. No' a soul, no' even ya Da," she shook her head, hands holding onto his upper arms. "Jimmy can no' know I'm here or tha' I'm alive."

"Mini..." Edmond frowned, obviously disappointed in what she was suggesting. "I won't tell a soul, ya know tha'! Shite, it was me Da who helped ya ou'a Ireland. Go' ya a plane ticket. We just thought you were...gone."

"I've been bouncin' around the states, making my was here. I got here about five months ago or somethin' like tha'." She paused, attempting to think through what she was having to say to Eddie. "When did ya start in the guns ovah here?"

Edmond moved to sit down on the couch, Regan getting them drinks before sitting on her chair.

"Well. Da took ovah awhile ago and he brought me in no' long after. Been runnin' with him back and forth from Dungloe."

"Oh, Eddie," she sighed with a deep frown. A part of her knew he had, in a way, been forced into working the IRA trade, but now he was more than likely enjoying it. That saddened her quite a lot, especially because she hadn't been there to talk him out of doing the work for his Dad or the IRA. It sort of surprised her that Cameron Hayes had pulled his son into the business but at the same time, the man was so dedicated to supporting the cause that he was going to make sure anyone who could better the cause would be utilized.

Eddie shook his head some, looking down at the mug in his hands.

"I couldn't get out, Regan but...it's for a greater cause."

Oh Lord he had sounded just like his Dad there, justifying blood baths by claiming a 'greater cause'. No war had been won with their cause, just precious lives lost. Edmond knew her stance on the IRA and just what they could do with their beloved cause. Instead of fighting with her lost friend, Re decided to play catch up.

"How's Mau? Trinny? The boys?" Regan didn't want to ask about Padraic, she wasn't sure her heart could handle it.

The question brought a smile to Edmond's face, "Maureen and Trinny are fine. Mau's still a bitch. Trinny's gettin just like her. The boys are well...the boys. I don't get to see them much though."

Regan smiled since the rowdy Belfast men never seemed to change their ways. They were always beating the shit out of one another or playing some kind of roulette. Roulette was always an interesting thing to watch them play, and always funny. Damn, she she missed them.

"Padraic?" she suddenly blurted out, looking up at Edmond. "The truth, Eddie."

Edmond stared at her for a long moment before gathering his thoughts enough to speak. He knew Regan wasn't going to enjoy this, she could see that on his face.

"He's good, Regan. Has really come into bein' a son," he nodded, the look of pride on Regan's face saying he had given her some of what she wanted to hear, but he knew there was more she wanted. "There's a girl, yeah. Been datin' her for a year just about. First one since ya left."

Regan looked down at her shaking hands, slowly sliding the ring around her finger, hiding her sadness.

"Is he happy?"

"As happy as he can be. No one will ever hold up to you, Regan. You know that."

She smiled at that, being able to be content as long as Padraic was happy.

"Good, I can live with it as long as he's happy."

Edmond smiled at his friend, standing from his seat.

"I've gotta go, Mini. I'm glad you're doin okay. No one will know, a'right? You're my secret."

Re nodded, sending Edmond on his way before deciding to go back to the hospital.

Anything to keep her mind off of Padraic. It was rather hard to get over your first love, even if it had been years since she had seen him. Knowing he was happy was the only reason she hadn't started crying or getting or getting upset over it. More than she was anyway.

* * *

The hospital was busy for mid-afternoon. Regan stepped around a doctor in too much of a hurry and not looking, which caused her to nearly run into an opening door and the bounce into a rather heavy-set woman who wasn't pleased that someone ran into her.

"Sorry," she managed before Gemma came into view. "Hi, Gemma."

"Hey baby, back so soon?"

"Yeah," Regan laughed a bit. "Can't stay away."

The pair shared a laugh as they pushed into her Uncle's room before stopping short when the sight of Fiona Larkin perched on a chair caught their attention. Re stepped closer, heel clicking softly before the pair hugged tightly.

"Aun' Fi..." Re breathed but Gemma's voice broke them apart.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Regan looked between the women, not listening until Tara came in. The doctor seemed confused for a moment before her training kicked in.

"I'm sorry, this is for family only-"

"She is family," Gemma sighed and Regan shook her head. "She's his wife."

Tara lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, looking between the two.

"Aun' Fiona's in from Irelan'."

Fiona gave Regan a look that made her shutup, and internally shrivel up.

"Well..."

"I was jus' leavin'. Regan, we need to talk." Fiona didn't have to say anymore, Regan gave her the address before the woman stopped to cup Regan's chin lightly.

"_Bain usáid as do chuid focal, grá, agus a choinneáil shúile ar oscailt."_

Swallowing before nodding, Regan knew the second part of her statement was a warning. Someone was here, an undesirable, and Regan had to be careful. Following the remaining two women into the hallway, Regan heard Gemma say something about fearing Fiona and she shook her head.

"She'll be tha last o' our worries..."

Tara and Gemma both looked at Regan, then to one another, then back again.

"_Agus a choinneáil shúile ar oscailt..._" Re looked at the women with a sigh. "Means 'Keep your eyes open'. Used it in Ireland...meant daner was close by or someone we didn't want to see us was in range. Aun' Fi just gave me a warnin..."

* * *

The knock on the wall was unexpected and made Re nearly jump off the couch. Of course, none other than Fiona Larkinstood above Regan's head, looking down upon her unofficial GodDaughter. It made Re think of a time when Fiona had picked Regan up...

. . .

"_Child, why are ya laying on tha dirty ground?!" Fiona scolded, bent over a giggling six year old Regan. "Look a' ya, Re! Your dress is all dir'y!"_

_Fiona held Regan in front of her, the tot squealing and grabbing hold of the purple skirt, flapping it a bit. _

"_Aun' Fi! I p'ayed in tha san' an' dere was a bufferfly!" she giggled sweetly, and all Fiona did was scoff. _

"_Lets go ge' ya clean..."_

. . .

Regan sighed as she sat across from Fiona, staring at her Aunt. It had been seven, maybe eight years sinceshe had seen this woman and the last place Re had thought Fiona would be was in Charming.

"Regan Aislin, what in God's name are you doin' in Charmin'?! Ya were runnin' away from this shite an' now you're in tha middle of it! Charmin gets their guns from-"

"Jimmy. Ah know. Uncle Fil tol' me." Regan sighed, leaning her arms on the table, hands folding together. "Jimmy is here, Aun' Fiona. An' you bein' here, only makes i' worse."

Fiona seemed to take offense to that, her eyes deceiving her characteristically stoney appearance. In the tense moment that followed, Regan never faltered in her gaze. Long ago Fiona had taught her how to keep a straight face and aboutabout now, the woman was probably regretting that lesson.

"Aun' Fi. You were takin' by Jimmy. Uncle Fil left _because_ of Jimmy an' ya came to Charmin' in a dangerous time. Ya led Jimmy righ' ta the shet."

Fi sat back with a hard sigh as Re stated the absolute truth, the hard truth. What Fiona didn't like was the smug look that crossed Regan's face quickly.

"Regan McElvy, don't you get cocky on me. Listen up," Fi leaned forward. "I'll be leavin' tomorrow mornin'. But you _need_ to be careful. You're no' protected here, not enough protection. These men are dangerous."

"Like I had protection in Ireland?!" she snapped angrily, shaking her head at her Aunt. "Ah know, Aun' Fi. I worked for them-"

Fiona shook her head.

"Worse than they were, Regan," she sighed and stood, taking Regan's face in her hands. "I love ya, Mini. Stay safe." Fiona pressed a kiss to Regan's forehead before stepping out of the house.

Leaning her arms on the table, Re took a deep shaky breath while thinking over all that Fiona had just said. And suggesting. A shit storm was brewing between the Irish and SAMCRO, one that was going to hurt everyone involved and then some.

* * *

**Notes: **Hey guys, I'm sorry this took so long! Work picked up quite a bit! Thanks for reading, subbing, and reviewing!

_Bain usáid as do chuid focal, grá, agus a choinneáil shúile ar oscailt - _Use your words, love, and keep your eyes open.


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